


Accidentally In Love

by aesterismo



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 16:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesterismo/pseuds/aesterismo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In retrospect, Kagami never could recall exactly when, why, and how Kuroko Tetsuya got under his skin.  Only that he did - and in all the best of ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accidentally In Love

**Author's Note:**

> #in which a love story is told in retrospect and out of order  
> #and kagami thinks he's luckier than he deserves to be and thinks too much  
> #which can either go really badly or really well  
> #spoiler alert: it goes both ways

**i.**

Someone wise once said love comes in many forms.

This same person, who Kagami long forgot the face and name of, was a stranger. A passerby who just happened to be at the same place at the same time as him, craving the company of another on the hour-long commute and a pair of ears to take in the lesson they desperately wanted to share. And it was one hell of a lesson. Kagami could recall the words of it clearly – though, again, not an inkling of their face – even after many years transpired between now and then.

Love comes in many forms, this mysterious person told him. Love can be what one feels for family, what one feels for those held close by obligation and blood and memories. Love can also be the ties that bind old friends and acquaintances, guiding them to meet and reconnect. Love can be the woven web of strings that compel enemies to become lovers, lovers to distant crushes, old flames into spouses and back again. Love can be something unnamable, something untraceable – something altogether beautiful or something rotten to the core.

Maybe it was all a dream. Kagami figured it could have been a figment of his imagination, this deep philosophical discussion with someone he met once and never met again.

But he would always, always remember the final words that person spoke before they parted, just as Kagami disembarked from the train:

Love can be everything and nothing, but when you fall in love, you’ll always know. Perhaps not immediately, perhaps not before you’ve already lost the one meant for you – but you will always, _always_ remember the moment you’ve fallen in love.

**v.**

The truth was, Kagami knew deep down that they were both using each other, in a way.

Their whole arrangement was built on mutual gain. Both of them had a goal that was similar and yet not - but they both lacked the strength and the abilities to reach it.

So why not team up, become an unstoppable pair? So why not, against all of his better judgment, agree to be the ‘light’ to a near stranger who claimed to be a ‘shadow’?

The question now, looking back, wasn’t _why_ but _where do we go from here?_

It didn’t shock him when Kuroko told him the truth.

But the truth was, Kagami always wished he had the balls to apologize as well, back when they were face to face and standing in the middle of that outdoor court to talk about it. Apologize for all the things he couldn’t do, apologize for all the things he may have unknowingly said or did, for all the things Aomine said and did (even if he had no right, knew he had no right, to infringe on something as precious as that time – but no way in hell was he willing to forgive that guy for making Kuroko cry), just…apologize, really.

But the words never came out, because the two words never seemed so out of place.

Kagami always hated the cowardly side of him, the part of him that couldn’t face up to how much he felt, couldn’t admit to being emotional on the inside, couldn’t imagine letting his mask down enough to let people in to break him down.

At least, that was how he felt about himself, once upon a time.

But _that was then, this is now_ , Kagami realized, holding out a fist in promise, letting the hard tap against his knuckles resonate through him, concentrating on the reverberation that refused to settle down at the sight of Kuroko’s laughing face.

But _that was then, this is now_ , Kagami thought, his resolute nod a faithful answer to Kuroko’s offer to pay for their next trip to the mall, though he refused to let Kuroko spent a single yen for dinner that night, inviting his shadow back to his place for a home-cooked meal as thanks for the new jacket and wristbands instead.

 _But that was then_ , Kagami felt surer than ever of his own resolution, staring out at the silent television screen and the unwashed dishes left over from their meal on the dining room table while the weight of Kuroko’s small frame pressed into his side and the lightly snoring boy’s head lay comfortably against his shoulder, a grin driving a path into his already upturned lips and laid to rest, _and this is now._

(At the very least, they’ve made more progress than Kagami expected – putting aside regrets and chasing away the last of their defenses and laughing a little bit easier around one another – and, for now, that was enough.)

**iii.**

A wise man once said that a person’s dreams mirrored their greatest desires in their waking life. Kagami never used to dream when he lived in America. Or - well, he dreamed occasionally, but his dreams were never exciting enough to be called noteworthy.

He likened them to extensions of his real life self – walking through the park on a cloudless day, lying out by the poolside to the sound of children’s laughter echoing from far away, that sort of thing. You know. Stuff like that.

So other than the dreams he had of playing basketball, it was all pretty much normal, everyday stuff he dreamed about back then.

But that was before he dreamed in various colors – in hues that didn’t exist outside of his nightly visions, in shades that mirrored his opponents’ hair color, in all kinds of ways that shone with such light up until the moment he opened his eyes – which were all but forgotten by the time he awoke.

But that was before he dreamed of various scenarios – like watching their coach walk down the aisle with strangers, like dancing barefoot and fancy-free in moonlit fields out in the middle of nowhere, like being forced to yell decidedly different confessions from the Seirin High rooftop after losing the Winter Cup.

But that was before he had dreams without speech, dreams without color.

That was before the stranger dreams began – dreams where he was himself but removed from the situations his dreams placed him in, more like nightmares than dreams.

Frightful dreams, where someone was taking him away and separating him from the rest of the dream. Unsettling dreams, where someone was pulling him down into a cave while disembodied hands gripped at his stomach and his wrists and tugged him down into a shadowed abyss. Unexplainable dreams where he walked down the streets near Maji Burger (except not, because the front of it said something else) with an alpaca on his left and Aomine with panther ears and a tail on his right.

And speaking of which, there were the _dreams_ – okay, okay, they were more like wishful thinking on his part – that were elaborate circumstances leading up to waking to a sound slap to his head courtesy of the teacher’s workbook and an uncomfortable slow burn aching in his lower body. Those were _dreams_ , alright – dreams about Kuroko, of all people, the kind that were incredibly intimate and not entirely unpleasant and more than a bit embarrassing as well as a touch disappointing to have to leave in favor of consciousness because. Yeah. Those weren’t the worst, but they weren’t the best, either.

Especially when the object of your affection sat behind you and gave you a pointed look after the teacher went back to the front of the room, as if those creepy-ass (but beautiful, an inward voice reminded him, taunting but accurate) eyes could see through him and look into the traces of his mind still wrapped in the image of slender shoulders heaving at burning touches and azure strands curled between shaking hands and other not-at-all-friendly thoughts.

As if he knew too much – maybe he _did_ , but Kagami would be damned if he worked up the courage to ask such a thing – and too little all at once.

**vi.**

When the question emerged at the forefront of his mind, Kagami stayed silent.

Sure, he was brash, stubborn, inarticulate, and more than a bit overzealous when it came to basketball – but he wasn’t an idiot, hardly an idiot, regardless of what their coach said. If anything, even Riko acknowledged that Kagami’s instincts were like an animal’s. He could tell when something was wrong a mile away, though he couldn’t always fix the problem on his own. In this case, there was nothing he could fix on his own.

Kuroko had a ridiculously good poker face, but there were things even he couldn’t hide. Kagami was getting better at reading between the lines because of his teammate.  Pay attention to his eyes, Kagami knew, as the old saying about the eyes never lying seemed quite true for him.

It was an unnamable emotion that flickered in Kuroko’s gaze when he first asked about Aomine – the kind of glimmer like a hidden treasure dancing beneath sea foam and brine, the kind of unspoken sentiment that induced a cross between wanting to shove down something asphyxiating down his throat and pulling the smaller boy into a hug. Kagami was a tactile person, sure, but he never experienced such protectiveness for the younger male until that very moment.

Correction: he never felt such protectiveness for Kuroko until his shadow started to share more of his past with him after that day.

Granted, they were a lot of happy memories made back then. It was obvious from the ghost of a smile, too, that a part of him missed those middle school glory days, missed the people he spent them with. It was obvious from the twinge of melancholy to his tone when his old ‘light’ was mentioned, as though the mere articulation hurt, a wavering inhale and exhale over burgers and shakes and awkward pauses.

It was obvious that he cared for Aomine as more than just a partner or friend; Kagami accepted that much faster than even he expected, though more likely than not, it had everything to do with his beliefs on love – but he never did ask the question that nagged at him, plagued his conscience when he let his worries get the better of him.

 _Did you choose me as your ‘light’ because I reminded you of him_ , Kagami often wondered, once they parted ways after these not-quite dinner table conversations, _or because you saw something in me that I hadn’t seen in myself before I met you?_

 _Did you call me your ‘light’ because it was convenient_ , Kagami found himself thinking over restless nights spent awake in his too-quiet apartment suite, _or because I really helped you see yourself as more than just a shadow?_

 _Did you want to win to prove yourself worthy of standing in front of him,_ Kagami asked – questioning himself more than anything – wondering why Kuroko’s lost eyes on him following their loss against Touou elicited more questions than answers, _or to prove that you deserved to stand by my side now?_

**ii.**

Kagami prided himself on being the bravest person he knew. But there were three things that scared him more than anything else in the world.

The first was dogs.

Yeah, yeah, whatever – shut up, alright? It was all because of a bad experience when he was younger. How would you feel about dogs if one came up and bit you right in the ass? Exactly.

The second was natural disasters.

That fear, at least, he shared with more than a few others. What could be worse than a hurricane blowing down your house and everything you called home - or a tsunami that caused such strong floods that it washed away everything you ever stood for? Mother Nature was indeed a dangerous mistress and even years of living in Los Angeles didn’t change how he felt about earthquakes. Or hailstorms. Or any of those uncontrollable forces that caused tragedy and suffering wherever they landed.

The third and final thing wasn’t actually a thing.

Or, put more accurately, it was an idea that frightened him – a notion, a thought, a feeling– and it had become the one thing he truly feared.

Put him in front of the tallest bastard in the world and tell him to go play a basketball match against him – that fired him up, set his heart and fighter’s spirit ablaze, but it wouldn’t deter him.

Put him in front of the tallest mountain out there and tell him to go climb it – the challenge of it thrilled him, made him more determined than ever to reach the summit – and he wouldn’t hesitate.

Put him in front of a boy two heads shorter than him, with hands that were at least a knuckle’s length shorter than his, with a sage mind that put most other teenagers his age to shame, with a determination that matched his own and eyes full of life and a shade more brilliant than the blue of any pure and tranquil ocean – and suddenly, Kagami was afraid.

Kagami was _afraid_ – afraid of the potential this boy granted him, afraid of the building hope that swallowed his stomach and clung to his chest, afraid of the very image of a high school life, a college experience, a lifetime, even a universe that didn’t include Kuroko Tetsuya – and the fact that he was so scared was the most frightening thing of all.

**iv.**

Kagami was never one for superstitions.

—Okay, that was a bit of a lie. He did believe in some superstitions. It was his parents’ fault, really, along with Alex’s and Tatsu-nii’s influence.

But who wouldn’t want to be careful if you could be cursed for a lifetime and beyond for not doing something as simple as keeping your chopsticks on the table?

He never really bought into the ‘red string of fate’ thing.

First of all, why was it a red string? Second, how the hell was he supposed to just know the right person?

Third, where do people even get this stuff? Was it something someone figured out on purpose, through trial and error? Or was it by complete accident - like someone just woke up one day and met someone and they looked down and then _bam_ , done?

But experience shapes a person, Kagami soon discovered, and it was three weeks into his first semester in high school that found him wondering if the whole legend had some truth to it, after all.

Maybe it’s not just guys and girls who end up meeting, Kagami decided, and know right when their eyes meet that something’s about to happen.

Maybe it’s not just a string that connects people fated to meet, Kagami mused, more like a path of stardust that brightens up whenever “that person’s” around.

Maybe it’s not figuring out you’re meant to be lovers or soulmates or other halves at all, Kagami realized, and more like the kind fear that hits you hard when you try to imagine a life without them.

**vi.**

The humor of the situation only struck Kagami almost twenty-four hours later.

But honestly. What had he been expecting, anyway? Given the opportunity and the suggestion, he probably would’ve done the same thing.

Then again, he had yet to see Kuroko’s room. The furthest he had gone into Kuroko’s house was the living room – and that was just to drop off a few papers and a book he had borrowed before the other boy caught a cold and was absent from school (and practice) for almost a week.

He still nearly jumped out of his skin when he woke up at 4AM and opened bleary eyes to find a wild mane of light blue hair just under his nose.

Kuroko was a near motionless sleeper, as Kagami discovered while they were at training camp together. Unlike Kagami, he stayed as still as a statue for the most part, on his back for the first stage of sleep and on his stomach for the second stage of sleep. And every so often, Kuroko would flop over on his side and curl a little bit further into his covers, as if searching for a source of warmth or security.

This was the first time Kagami ever saw Kuroko’s face so _close_.

It didn’t surprise him that the boy’s face wasn’t as flawless as it appeared from afar. There were pale freckles on his nose and the faint outlines on his forehead were definitely the beginning of worry lines. But he was just as small as Kagami imagined he would be, huddled close to the redhead’s chest and burrowed there like a worn-out swallow basking in the familiar heat of the nest it called home.

Like home. Something familiar swelled in a corner of his mind, threatening to overthrow the myriad of conflicted thoughts running amuck. It was familiar, almost nostalgic.

“Kagami-kun.” Owlish eyes peered up at him – and his contemplation came to a screeching halt, veering straight back down to Earth. “Aren’t you tired?”

“N-No, I’m fine.” It sounded defensive even to his ears; Kuroko gave him that pointed look, the one that screamed disbelief from the rooftops. “—Okay, maybe I’m a little…uncomfortable.”

That was, of course, the politically correct way of putting it, what with Kuroko’s toes digging into his heel and a hand grazing the back of his forearm. But much to his surprise, Kuroko seemed mollified by this alone, beckoning him to sit upright.

“Could you close your eyes for a bit, Kagami-kun?” To Kagami’s arched eyebrows, the other boy elaborated, “I think I know something that should help you sleep easier.”

“…Sure, why not.” He began to sit up – but Kuroko was quick to push him back down, grip on his pinned wrists firm as Kuroko hovered over his reclined form. “Uhhh. B-By the way, why do I have to close my eyes?”

Kuroko stared down at him – unwavering and absolutely determined – and Kagami felt his mouth go dry as his eyes fluttered shut.

“Here, are you happy now? My eyes are closed.” Kagami huffed, petulant. A heartbeat passed before Kagami was all ready to give up on this little game of theirs. “So how long is ‘a bit,’ anyway—”

If only it was just the pressure on his lips.

If it were just that, he probably wouldn’t have gone into complete shock.

A peck on the lips would have been fine, but the pressure against his mouth, his stomach, his knees and _god_ – it was enough to send sudden, liquid fire flooding into his capillaries and coiling into a taut knot in the lining of his esophagus and, eyes still slammed shut (to capture the colors behind his eyelids, brief yet dazzling, like sparklers gone off all at once in the quiet July heat), he found himself kissing back, tracing the trembling boy’s teeth and gliding hands moving upward from bare knees to the thighs pressed at either side of his hips and held him there until his vision adjusted to the dark once more.

“That,” breathed Kagami against the crevice between clavicle and shoulder, “kinda did the opposite of what you said it would.”

“Sorry.” Kuroko flashed a wan but sheepish grin, and Kagami knew – he _knew_ then more than ever, as the shorter male’s fingers trailed along the waistband of his pants and a deliberate nip at his jawline – that he was the furthest thing from repentant. “Should we try it again with your eyes open, then, to see if that helps you settle down?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Kagami smirked, not the least bit sorry as strong hands grabbed Kuroko by the waist and threw him down none too gently against the mattress, the tables turned and cheeks brushing in a shared, unapologetic laugh. “Sure. Let’s do this again…keep your eyes open, though.”

**vii.**

(The next day, when they came to practice almost ten minutes late, the knowing leers and catcalls weren’t what made Kagami turn scarlet as they walked into the gym – it was Kuroko’s arm around his waist and the fact that he didn’t feel the least bit sorry about it.)


End file.
